Free Temping Is Hell by Cathy Yardley Page A

looked at her, eyes full of concern. “Hey, Kate,” he murmured.
    She couldn’t help it—she flushed. The guy’s drawl was like being drizzled with honey. Then licked.
    Tad, of course, noticed.
    “It’s between me and my girlfriend,” Tad said sharply… then got up, moving in like a missile.
    “Gack!” she protested, just before his thin lips locked onto hers.
    …
    Of all the jazz joints in all the sushi restaurants in all the world , Thomas thought, shaking his head with a combination of resignation and disgust as he watched the skinny, ugly guy paw Kate. Why did she have to walk into this one?
    Going to Yoshi’s had been his client’s idea, and given its proximity to his condo in the Havens, Thomas had thought it was a great one. He was looking forward to calling it an early night and getting more work done back at the suite.
    He was really surprised to see the red-haired temp Kate—and even more surprised to realize he was pleased when he recognized her.
    She was on a date, he noticed immediately. Though if her body language was any indication, she was none too comfortable with it. That probably shouldn’t amuse him, but it did. Her date was wearing a shirt whose collar bulged out with the tag he’d forgotten to remove. The kid was socially awkward and apparently tried to make up for it by being way too aggressive.
    And now, the kid was on Kate like a flea on a dog.
    If Thomas were a hundred percent sure of Kate’s response, he’d have dragged the kid off and shown him the door. A good part of him still wanted to—which, he admitted, was strange.
    Just protective, maybe. His mama would turn in her grave if she knew he’d pushed himself on a woman, or stood idly by while another man did. Besides, in a roundabout way, Kate was his employee—or the near occasion of his employee, as Yagi might say. Thomas was very, very protective of the people he thought of as his.
    She is definitely mine.
    With that appealing thought, he moved to step in and stop the boy’s aggression.
    Before he could, the boy roared with pain, pulling back, his lower lip bloody. Kate had a drop of blood on her mouth that she wiped off with the cloth napkin.
    The host rushed forward, looking concerned.
    Kate stood up. “Is the program in there?” she asked the bleeding, shocked looking boy, pointing at a messenger bag on a nearby chair.
    “Damn it, Kate…”
    “Is it in there?” she hissed. The boy nodded. “It’s the zebra stripe flash drive. I’m sorry,” he muttered, pressing his napkin to his lip. “I mean, I didn’t—”
    “Don’t. Talk. To me.” Her green eyes blazed like a welder’s torch as she pawed through the bag. “And if you follow me, so help me God, I’m pounding you into the pavement.”
    “Come on…”
    “Just try it.” She swiped up the drive, stuffed it in her purse, then weaved through the crowded tables at a fast clip. The boy blushed bright as a stoplight.
    “But what about the check?” he called after her retreating figure. “You don’t expect me to pay for your dinner if you’re just gonna leave !”
    Thomas smothered a grin. Then he gestured to his client, indicating he’d be back in a second, and went after Kate. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she spun. He barely managed to miss the swing, a beautiful right hook aimed about her date’s height. Fortunately, Thomas was taller than her date—and he trained, every day, for just such occasions.
    “Whoa there, slugger,” he said, holding his hands up. “I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”
    She took a deep breath. “I will be,” she growled.
    “I take it that was not your boyfriend, then,” he drawled, putting his hands in his pockets.
    “He keeps up shit like that, he’s not even going to stay male,” she promised darkly.
    Thomas laughed, letting out a low whistle. “Remind me not to piss you off.”
    “Fine,” she said, glaring at him. “Don’t piss me off.”
    He glanced at her. She looked fierce, he thought,